


Five Minutes

by semele



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/pseuds/semele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She certainly didn't expect things to be so strangely peaceful. It's a game, of course, a game Damon plays with her (a game he invites her to play with him). Time out. Five minutes. We don't have to have this fight tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for love-bingo, square _Everyday life_

This isn't how she imagined being with Damon.

She isn't entirely sure what she expected, possibly blood, gore and loads and loads of sex, plus whipped cream and cherry on top. Also, there might've been strippers, fights to the death, handcuffs, and a bathtub full of whiskey.

Yes. Most definitely strippers.

She certainly didn't expect things to be so strangely peaceful. It's a game, of course, a game Damon plays with her (a game he invites her to play with him). Time out. Five minutes. We don't have to have this fight tonight.

When he sneaks into the bathroom when she's taking a shower, a part of her still expects him to put her on edge, to rile her up and make her uneasy. 

(To be fair, sometimes he still does.)

Instead, he steps into the shower quietly, bringing some silence with him, and Elena is surprised by how close he gets. It's like he doesn't see her at all: he moves slowly behind her to pick up his shower gel from the shelf, brushing against her. His eyes are closed, and maybe he is alone inside his head; Elena Gilbert is in his shower, but that's not a big deal, not anymore. This is another thing that's new: with silence comes the lack of personal space, deep breaths and touch she never thought him capable of, soft and sure, as if his hands were so much smaller than they actually are.

“What happened?” she asks knowingly. Something always happens. Damon doesn't get so quiet without reason.

Only now Damon opens his eyes. He tries to make a cocky face out of habit, but changes his mind-movement, his expression utterly ridiculous. Elena can't stop a smile, and Damon rolls his eyes as he takes the shower head from her.

“Klaus happened,” he says simply before he wets his hair.

“Are you hurt?”

“Not yet.”

She should probably be more worried, because the nonchalant tone of her voice doesn't fool her for even a second. She should cup his face and ask twenty question, quickly check his chest for blood or bruises, but instead she shakes her head and bites her lip. (She would be more worried if she wasn't so damn weary, tired of solving problems and searching for answers, fed up with plans and plots.)

“Will it kill us tonight?” she asks as Damon rests his hands on her shoulders to pull her even closer.

“Unlikely,” he mutters into her neck, and tries to distract her with kisses, but Elena turns around to face him.

“Will you tell me in the morning?” she says, looking him in the eye. He doesn't even answer, just nods, relief visible on his face. They don't have to do this tonight.

Elena hands him her bottle of shampoo, and he accepts gratefully, spins her around before he squeezes some of the shampoo onto his palm. His hands feel good on her head, soft and thorough and easy, she never expected being with Damon to be that easy.

She lets him take as much time as he wants, to soap, and touch, and rinse, until his fingers stop shaking with fear.


End file.
